Dad has always been an optimistic and happy man.  So, he forgets the bad stuff, which is great for him and us.

Except when it comes to filling out forms about medical history.  And Dad needed to complete one as part of his Life Alert system service.  So, voila, instant family activity helping Dad recreate his past and present issues.  Some families go to museums for outings; we go over past illnesses, trials and tribulations.  Usually, right before a meal.

Sidebar:  For the record, today we went to a museum en famille.

Last Sunday, right before dinner, Dr. SOB (with SOS as her helper) did what she does “at the office”; she took a patient’s medical history.  This time it was Dad’s.  (Actually, she keeps a detailed one on each of us, but it was a good memory exercise for Dad.)  SOB helped SOS pronounce the words, like “emphysema,” etc.  Dad responded with the answers.  Then we corrected him on relevant issues.

But sometimes he didn’t hear that well.  SOS said “neurological” and Dad asked “urological?”  (I guess he does know his issues.)  In the middle of the recitation of possible respiratory ailments, I interjected, “hard of hearing?”  Even though I was on the other side of the room, Dad turned and said, “No, dear,” with a watch-yourself look.  Then, SOS was asking about skin ailments, and Dad (for whom none of these words is new) needed SOS and SOB to repeat them a few times.  So, I interjected, “hard of hearing?”  Dad shot me another look.  Ok, I don’t know when to stop.

The medical history was more arduous because my Dad was having trouble hearing or understanding.  So, from even farther away from him, I interjected, “some wine, anyone?”  “Yes, please,” Dad quickly responded.

He isn’t really hard of hearing.  Sometimes, he is practically deaf.  But, mostly, he is just tired of listening.